Unraveling
by Gigi Bites
Summary: Harper thinks she's lost it all - her best friend, her job, and her mind. A request from Top Gun for her immediate return turns everything upside down, but will she ever grasp the concept that there's more to some things than it seems?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is my first piece of fan fiction, so excuse any newbie errors I may make. Reviews and suggestions would be appreciated, and I will update as soon as I can! Thank you.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Top Gun - this includes all characters and themes associated with it. I would be extremely grateful if you did not try sue me.

* * *

" … it's urgent, so the sooner I get a reply from you, the better. I'd appreciate it if you could call me back. Thank you."

Harper had already looped the message, but her hand slid over the 'repeat' button again, hesitating before pressing it a third time.

"Lieutenant Maharis, this is Commander Mike Metcalf, calling on behalf of an issue that has recently arisen …"

His plea droned on, describing the situation in greater detail. A pilot was in search for an apt RIO, and she had been nominated as a prospect.

"... unfortunate incident resulting in the loss of Lieutenant Ron Kerner. "

Her entire body bristled instantaneously, and she slammed the 'pause' button. Ever since she had suffered the casualty of her pilot and best friend, Lieutenant Aidan "Shift" Clark, Harper had been inhabiting a world of denial and absolute seclusion. Her guard was sensitive, and even the slightest triggers sent her wheeling into painful recollection. This call was an optimistic venture on Viper's part; the contingency that she would reappear in the field of aviation was slim. Her mindset that particular afternoon must have been aberrant, however, because the unbearable relapses the message sparked combined with the dull desperation in Viper's voice was forcing Harper to seriously consider the idea of returning to TOPGUN. Her chest heaved once before she grasped the receiver, punching in the appropriate sequence of numbers before raising the phone to her lips.

"Hello?"

"Commander Metcalf, this is Lieutenant Maharis. I …"

Harper's trembling voice faded into reticence, any of the composure she had managed to collect deserting her. The sudden wave of apprehension was preventing her from continuing, but Viper was quick to blindly assess her state.

"Let me guess, you've got a reply for me. Tango, all I need is a one word answer."

The sound of her call sign brought the glory of flying into re-justification. Before any remorse had the chance to surface a second time, Harper took a deep breath.

"I'm honored to be considered, sir, and I will assume the position as gracefully as I can


	2. Chapter 2

The days before Harper's departure for Miramar were only prolonged by the uneasy rests that they blended into. Caffeine came in steady supplements by means of coffee, going through pots a day just to fend off the drowsiness. The temporary energy bursts it all amounted to were barely enough to help her achieve the functioning point where she could complete most basic tasks. Sleep held no appeal, resting for even a brief period of time had proved itself to be a waste. Time was key, although subconsciously she recognized the hours invested into retraining herself to peak physical and mental condition would never be enough. "Prepared" was a state of mind you had to be confident to achieve, and Harper was anything but presumptuous towards her decision.

Packing was an absolute mess. Open suitcases lay strewn among the heaps of laundry and other items she had reasoned as essentials. She tread cautiously, to better avoid stepping on one of the many prized possessions that had scattered themselves amidst the disarray. Harper sighed as she cleared a seat. Surveying the room was enough to let her know that this might take awhile.

About two hours later, the monstrous mounds had diminished into a humble disarray of stray items. Among them were a few mismatched pairs of socks, flight patch, a pair of frayed jeans, and a picture frame. Harper tidied the floor, initially starting for the closet with the trousers in hand. Crossing the photograph on her way, she bent over to pick it up. The faded picture paralyzed her mid-reach. A handsome young man was flashing a bright smile, his arm around a sickeningly enthusastic girl, who was giving the camera a thumbs up. They held identical badges, and she had to narrow her eyes to recognize the winged insignias. His deep brown eyes danced with a fiery passion, her pale green ones shining bright. Harper could feel the burn of tears threatening to destroy her composure, and she forced her gaze upward. The mirror ahead of her was the first thing to capture her attention, where her stare was matched with it's own fragile echo.

Her eyes were customarily blank. Repressed hues of emerald meshed with notes of gold, exhaustion overpowering any other emotions they were capable of depicting. A small shimmer of animation winked in her eyes only as the pads of her fingers settled on the picture, as if somehow she was re-injecting herself back to the scene, returning into the overwhelming elation. She could practically feel Aiden's snug embrace, his ritual speeches, typically pertaining to the dreams he'd never see come true … memories of the warm tone of his laugh breeched her sanctuary of denial. Her grip on the frame tightened, single-handedly fending off a breakdown as she carefully unzipped a suitcase and set the picture on the top. Nothing could compensate for the loss of Aiden, nor could anything replace the new motivation it stirred.

- - - - - -

Miramar was exactly as she had remembered it to be – the perpetual drone of engines provided the perfect background for the stout buildings, numerous towers stretching up towards the sky. People in the distance looked like action figured, each set on accomplishing a mission of their own, yet synced flawlessly with each other. That's what flying was, a beautiful harmony between human and machine. Harper tried to loosen up as she walked across the parking lot, bound for the office. She didn't want to make calling her back a mistake in the eyes of Viper, but it was inevitable her flying would be sloppy if she was tense. The anticipation kept heaping with every forward step, but some greater power somewhere took pity. Commander Metcalf was walking towards her right now.

"Lieutenant Maharis." It was impossible to ignore his grin as they came within appropriate communication range, "Welcome back."

- - - - - -

Harper sighed, nodding in timed increments as the rules and schedules of Top Gun were reintroduced via an abridged introductory lecture.

"... flights a day. Not much has changed since your departure, Lieutenant."

As he concluded, Viper sighed, leaning back on his desk and tapping a pen on the palm of his hand impatiently. Tedious formalities and routine had subsided to the business at hand, but something seemed to be delaying the long awaited introduction between her and her new partner. He checked his wristwatch for the fifth time in two minutes, eyes darting to the door as if he expected the doorknob to turn on command. Only moments later, there was a knock at the door.

"You have permission to enter."

Harper inhaled sharply, holding her breath and crossing her fingers. The man who entered was vaguely familiar, from his bleached tips to his brash smile. He began to perform routine greetings, but Viper interjected.

"Maharis, meet your new pilot. Lieutenant Tom Kazansky, call sign: Iceman."


	3. Chapter 3

"... Kazansky, this is Lieutenant Harper Maharis, call sign: Tango."

She rose from her chair, hesitant to offer a hand. Harper could feel the weight of his stare shift away from Commander Metcalf.

"Save it."

Her hand immediately returned to her side, full attention transitioning forward. This "Iceman" character hadn't bothered to be subtle about his examining, and shamelessly he allowed his gaze to linger as Viper continued.

"Everyone's in preflight. I'd hurry up, if I were you."

And without so much as a goodbye, he dismissed the pair, sliding into the chair behind his desk and turning his back towards them.

- - - - - -

Harper had dutifully saluted before exiting, but Iceman hadn't been as inclined. He had simply trailed her out, snapping his gum. The sound echoed down the vacant hall, reverberations temporarily filling the gaping silence. She was attempting to find common grounds for conversation when he cleared his throat.

"Listen."

Iceman's tone was serious, quiet and deep. Evidently, he meant business. Harper stopped, giving him a second to cover the gap that had formed between them. His eyes replicated a piece of steel – hard, cold, and lacking the sheen that characterized life. Just peering up into them made her uncomfortable. Perhaps this was from where his call sign derived?

"I want to clarify real quick, because girls usually get the wrong idea – I'm not here to be your pal, and I hope you aren't here to be mine, either. Just because we've both lost someone doesn't make us alike. Got it?"

Her compliance got caught in her throat initially, the brusque string of his words sinking in. Harper had to take a moment to briefly collect herself before replying.

"While we're on the subject of clarifications, then I'd like to make sure you're aware that generalizing me would be a terrible mistake on your part. Don't underestimate me because I have a uterus, Lieutenant Kazansky, most men seem to get the wrong idea."

She tilted her head, the corner of her lip curling into an innocent smile. The words had been unfiltered, spilling out before she had time to tone down the offense. She'd have to hand it to him, it was impressive he had managed to flare her temper already. A presage? Harper hoped not, but she knew better than to expect anything else.

- - - - - -

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman, and welcome aboard TOPGUN airlines. It's a beautiful day for flying, at a balmy seventy seven degrees Fahrenheit, and not a cloud in the sky ..."

Harper opened her mouth to make an addition to Hollywood's debrief, but refrained, biting her lower lip until she could feel the metallic taste of blood seeping into her mouth. She didn't want to supply Iceman with more reasons to reproach her. For the past half an hour, since their meeting, he'd been necessarily counseling every move of hers that wasn't textbook. It was bothersome, but being in the air again was a wonderful reminder his consent wasn't worthy of being taken in account.

"Tango, you alive in there? How's it going?"

Wolfman's voice crackled over the radio, snapping her back into reality.

"Eh, shockingly I've been better. It's good to be flying again, though."

Hollywood chuckled.

"Well, you couldn't be in better company. Ice'll take care of you."

She rolled her eyes, grimacing, forcing a correction back down her throat. They had dressed for flight silently, tuning into the socialization of their surrounding company. The only things Kazansky had said to her were critiques of her preparation tendencies. Suddenly, two unfamiliar planes caught her eye.

"We've got company. Two bogies, headed northwest, going roughly six hundred."

"I'd say seven hundred, if anything. They're headed somewhere, doesn't look they've noticed us yet. Split on five, Hollywood."

Iceman's voice seemed to naturally accentuate the miscalculation. The plane veered to the right, pushing her back into her seat. Harper seized his distracted state as opportunity to stick her tongue out, the most mature tactic to effectively release her fury. When she felt the appropriate amount of disgrace had been delivered, she mimicked his concentration, clearing her mind of everything but the jets that had come into clearer sight and plots to destroy them as efficiently as possible.

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**Author's Note: **Okay, considering the length, this took me an awfully long time. I'm sorry it's no novel in itself, I've been busy! The next update will ( hopefully ) be exponentially more exciting. I think a character relationship had to be established, though. There's no time like the present. ;)


	4. Chapter 4

" … and your 'little mistake' cost us the round! I didn't think it was possible for a TOPGUN student to be so mindless!"

Harper's gaze skipped around the runway, trying to avoid returning Iceman's wrathful glare. Insinuating that it had been just as much his fault as it had been hers would be a useless rebellion, which was why she allowed him to berate her so fervently without a whisper of protest.

" … next time I have a bogie on my wing, do you think you could be a pal and let me know?! Or is that asking too much, 'cause from here, it's only going to be harder."

She had only caught bits and pieces of his tirade, but censuring could only provide salvation for so long. He had been silent for a few seconds – expecting a response, she assumed. More eyes had turned on the pair, fellow pilots starved for conflict after all the harmonious routines TOPGUN mandated. Iceman quarreled well, that could explain his impeccable grasp on the art of combat. Her style entirely clashed with his, because while she was also a distinguished fighter, her reproaches were reserved for crucial times, typically when her dignity was at stake. Walking back to the showers in the company of her peers didn't seem like an appropriate time to get defensive. Harper wanted to inform him discreetly of his own slip-ups, but for the time being she simply matched his scowl with her own and continued on. He must have understood, because his voice didn't trail her with insults. Already, after less than a day, she could tell it would be a wonderful companionship.

- - - - - -

An hour of solitude with a pile of textbooks and a cup of coffee calmed her significantly, enough to restrain words to ward off a visitor, who was knocking insistently at her door.

"Tango? Are you alive?"

It was Wolfman's voice, and she hesitated before informing him the door was unlocked. He barged in immediately, not giving her time to readjust herself from her awkward sprawl across the couch.

"Been studying?"

"I'm sick of Iceman's griping about everything I'm not doing perfectly, so yes sir. I am indeed studying. Was it the books that gave it away?"

He smiled, chuckling before taking a seat on the bed adjacent to the lounge, and looked around. Her sparse decoration seemed a little embarrassing now that somebody was actually visiting, but training hadn't allotted her much time for such things.

" … I haven't gotten a chance to put up pictures or anything yet."

Harper explained shortly, recapturing his attention. This seemed to remind him of why he had stopped by.

"So there's a party tonight, I guess I figured Ice hadn't said anything. You should come."

She contemplated the idea, weighing the appeal of a party. Wolfman sensed her uncertainty, and spouted more details.

"Don't worry about training tomorrow, none of us are staying late. I'm sure you could hitch a ride with Hollywood."

Another glance at the diagrams in her textbook spurred her to accept the invitation. This seemed a relief to her companion, and he stood.

"Awesome, we'll stop by in an hour or so. See you then, Tango."

As she shut the door behind him, her mind was whirring. A party? She had never been one for parties to begin with, much less parties with nobody she could call a friend. Harper threw open her closet, browsing through the clothes she had towed with her. Anything to get her mind off of Iceman's arctic menace was worth the discomfort.


End file.
